


a speech

by Murf1307



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murf1307/pseuds/Murf1307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras rants about Grantaire to Combeferre and Courfeyrac.  Grantaire overhears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a speech

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this](http://khaleesicarol.co.vu/post/54786474431/nah-man-i-just-feel-like-enjolras-would-start) prompt on tumblr on august 25, 2013.

"It’s just — he — he has the nicest eyes," is how Enjolras starts this particular Grantaire Rant.

Grantaire Rants have become a thing, though Enjolras doesn’t seem to really have noticed, over the last couple of months.  They started as standard griping about how infuriating he is, and have since…devolved.

"He has the nicest eyes — I’ve never seen a blue quite like his left one, and the brown one is nice, too, and if I was someone who drew things I would probably draw them a lot and it’s terribly frustrating because I already know it wouldn’t work even if my drawing skills amounted to anything past badly proportioned stick figures, but I suppose it’s okay, drawing is his thing and that’s good, that’s very good, because he’s very good at it.  And painting, did you see that painting he did?  It was a joke but I liked it and I think it’s still in his room, do you think I should ask if I can have it?  Never mind, that would be weird that would be really, really weird and he already thinks I’m weird and I know that I can be but I’m pretty sure that crosses over into creepy-weird and I  _don’t_  want to be creepy weird.

"And I found out yesterday that he’s gone  _hang-gliding_ , and he’s apparently very good at that too.  Can you imagine?  I don’t think I could ever go hang-gliding, I wouldn’t trust myself not to fall out of the glider and I don’t like heights but if he asked I’d probably go, but he probably won’t ask considering he knows how I reacted to that carnival ride when we went on it — it was called the Zipper and it was not fun it was essentially the most terrifying thing I have ever done and I was kind of clinging to him and we went around about 1440 degrees at one point and it was awful but I don’t think hang-gliding would be nearly so bad but probably more objectively dangerous.

"He’s so good at a lot of things and I wish he knew that but I don’t say things very well when he’s involved, have you noticed that, Combeferre?  I think you probably have, you notice everything and this is definitely a pattern and I hate it because it means it’s hard to have a conversation with him that doesn’t turn into a fight or get awkward and I don’t want it to be awkward because he’s so smart and when he talks about classical literature he’s so informed and I’m pretty sure he’s actually fluent in Latin and do you remember the time he got angry at that guy in the bar and busted out Catullus 16 in mine and Jehan’s defense?  It was the most intelligent way anyone has ever tried to respond to femmephobia I have ever seen and he did it in the original Latin, I probably could have kissed him for it but that, also, would have been weird, why am I so  _weird_  around him?  I just don’t understand and it’s awful because I don’t want him to think something’s wrong because I don’t just go around kissing people but I wouldn’t mind kissing him at all which is weird it really is weird —”

"Just tell him you like him already," Combeferre says, reaching out and covering Enjolras’s mouth with a hand.  "Because you obviously do, if your consistent ranting about him says anything."

"Like him?  Like, like middle-school like him?" Enjolras asks, going pale.

Courfeyrac, who has been quiet throughout the rant, starts making this high-pitched inhuman noise.

"Yes, goddamn it," Courfeyrac manages after a moment.  "Everyone but you and him can see it and it is literally the most frustrating thing any of us has ever borne witness to."

"Oh."

Combeferre is silent, but he’s caught sight of something over Enjolras’s shoulder.  Enjolras turns around.

It’s Grantaire, looking incredibly confused in the doorway of Enjolras and Combeferre’s dorm room.

"Go on," Combeferre says, as Grantaire turns tail and escapes.

Enjolras yelps, jumps to his feet, and follows.

* * *

"Grantaire!" he calls out, because Grantaire is already at the other end of the hallway and that won’t do, that won’t do at all.  He closes the distance only because Grantaire stops, still looking at the stairwell.

Enjolras wants him to look at him instead, but he doesn’t do anything about it.

"How much of…that…did you hear?" he asked, voice small.

Grantaire is quiet for a moment.  ”From when you were talking about the  _Liberty Leading the People_  parody,” he says, and he also sounds hesitant.

"Oh," Enjolras says.  "Do you mind, much?"

Grantaire makes this weird, inarticulate squawking noise.  Fear blooms in the pit of Enjolras’s stomach.  Then Grantaire turns around, and he’s blushing tomato-red.

"You wouldn’t mind kissing me?" he says, and it’s shy.

Enjolras blushes.  ”I’d, um.  I’d like it, if it were, um, in the cards?  Is it in the cards?  I mean, it doesn’t have to be, I’m not expecting anything because I don’t even know if you actually like me back.”

"It’s in the cards," Grantaire says, stepping a little closer.  He’s in Enjolras’s space now, and he looks a little in awe of that, like he was never expecting this, whatever this is, to be allowed.  "You — you really like me?  Like that?"

Enjolras’s heart is pounding.  ”Yes.  A lot.”

"You never said anything?"

"I’m not good at words with you."

Grantaire chuckles and looks down at their shoes.  ”That speech was nice, though.  Kind of, um, adorable.”

"Oh."  Enjolras blushes a little redder now.  "Thank you."

"Can, um, can the kissing happen now?" Grantaire asks, and his voice is barely audible.

"Yes!" Enjolras squeaks.  He leans in, tilting his head, and pressing his lips against Grantaire’s.  

He also puts one hand on Grantaire’s hip, because he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do.  He doesn’t kiss people, as a rule, but he thinks he’s going to have to amend that rule, because he likes kissing Grantaire.

Especially when Grantaire curls a hand in the front of his shirt and pulls him closer.

He likes that part a lot.


End file.
